


Spatula

by Elkian (SuperImposed)



Category: Zeta Project
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Gen, I have so many ideas for this fandom bouncing around in my head and what do I post?, In a way, One Shot, this thing i made in 10 minutes before work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 09:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19104067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/Elkian
Summary: "It's a perfectly sound principle, Ro," he says, right before flipping the entire spatula-full onto the stovetop.





	Spatula

Ro looks at the stove. She looks at the spatula. She looks at Zeta.

"Uh," the finely-tuned, high-functionality assassindroid says, sheepishly, "I. meant to do that?"

"All this AND you're bad at lying, too." The human shook her head, then leaned over to scrape at her own mess-in-a-pan.

"I do not want to lie to you whenever possible," Z says, a bit poutily, and d'awww that's kinda sweet. His own "human" face peered at the mess on the stove. "I have astronomical-grade gyros and highly advanced actuators-"

"-and yet," Ro gestured to the disaster area once known as the stovetop, "you can't flip an egg, either."

"Yes, I can, Ro." Zeta demonstrated by neatly flipping an uncracked egg on the spatula, catching it as it came down. "I-"

Ro wondered if he was distracted, or just didn't think of ... whatever it was it took to bleed off momentum. TL,DR: There was now egg on (probably _in_ ) his hand. She couldn't help but cackle a little. But not too loud, the liquid egg dripping off her hair and onto her shoulder warned.

"I do not understand why such a simple, basic survival task is so difficult for us, together and in tandem."

Ro shot a look over her eggy shoulder at him. "Did you, like, never cook for any of..." she waved her spatula a bit, a little hesitant to say the words, even if he didn't deal with sensitive subjects the way a human might. "...any of your... stand-in spouses, family, whatever?"

There is, surprisingly, a pause - one so long that Ro has to redirect her concerned look and curse as her own pan starts smoking, chunking the contents (and pan) into the sink before the alarm can trigger. She almost doesn't hear Z, over the rushing water. "Such things are complicated. My memories of those times and the body I am currently in are not yet fully synchronized."

That quiets her for a bit. Ro finally sighs softly and places a hand on his shoulder, not missing a beat as her palm passes through the holographic layer. She's been with him long enough to be used to such things.

"I'm sorry, Z." Rubbing his shoulder does pretty much nothing, but she still kinda does it, fingertips skimming unseen joints.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Ro."

"...yeah." She pulls back, breathes in, squares her shoulders, and looks at the disaster they've made of the kitchenette. "Though explaining this to the front desk is going to be interesting, infinite-credit card or no."

**Author's Note:**

> there's like 10 cartons of eggs and four or five back-up pans on the counter. Ro grew up in a Home and on the streets and Zeta doesn't eat and this came to me while struggling to make breakfast, I hope you liked it!


End file.
